


Fifty Shades of Hay

by upallnighttogetspoony



Category: 18th & 19th Century CE RPF, Political RPF - US 19th c.
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Attempt at Humor, Bad French, Banging dudes in 1864, Dorks in Love, Kinky, M/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 13:23:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2430365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/upallnighttogetspoony/pseuds/upallnighttogetspoony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Hay is one of the personal secretaries to Abraham Lincoln.  Henry Brooks Adams is the personal secretary to the United States Minister to the Court of Saint James (his father).  When these two secretaries meet, sparks fly and a whirlwind affair begins.  The French lessons get pretty hot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No mustache, much trouser snake

The puzzling question had puzzled John Hay for quite some time. And finally, he had to just approach his boss’s son and ask. “WHY ARE YOU SO ATTRACTED TO HENRY ADAMS?”  
Robert Todd Lincoln seemed bewildered and astonished. “I DON’T KNOW.”

“I AM GOING TO FIND ONE OF YOUR BEST FRIENDS AND MAKE OUT WITH THEM, JUST TO PROVE A POINT.” The declaration of his sinister intentions would have been more complete if John Hay still sported his glorious mustache and could twirl it between his fingers, but alas, it had been unwillingly snatched from his face in the dead of night.

Robert’s husband, the one and only Charley Longfellow, came in carrying beer and puppies. “… isn’t Henry now my great grand-nephew in law?” After all, Charley’s brother Erny had recently wed, through some inexplicable time and reincarnation fuckery, none other than Challz Adams.

John Hay suddenly looked horrified. “Oh my god, you’re right. That’s… huh.”

Robert, fed up with this mind-boggling, physics-defying notions, bellowed for all the universe to hear, “I DON’T KNOW. ANYWAY, WHY DOES IT MATTER I FIND HIM ATTRACTIVE?”

“BECAUSE I ALSO FIND HIM ATTRACTIVE AND IF HE’S MY BEST FRIEND I GET DIBS.” Immediately realizing his own great absence of tact, John Hay cleared his throat. “… I mean, uh. Because… other reasons. Obviously.”

“I AM MARRIED, SO IT DOESN’T MATTER. I CAN’T HAVE HIM.” Robert paused a moment as he actually thought about what John Hay had just said. “…..you are into men?”

John Hay’s cheeks burned a fiery crimson fire. “I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M INTO, JUST THAT HE’S HOT.”

“I KNEW IT. OH MY GOD I KNEW IT.” Little did John Hay know, but Robert and several others had actually placed bets upon the plucky young secretary’s heterosexuality being a fragile illusion.

“…have you all just been suspecting this the whole time or something? No one’s even the slightest bit surprised?” Everyone had suspected, and no one was even the slightest bit surprised. John Hay made people’s gaydar go off like a Geiger counter in motherfucking Chernobyl.

Robert shook his head and looked at John Hay sagely over the wine glass he held all of a sudden. “Not surprised at all, John. I was wondering when it would happen, to be honest.” 

In the background, Charley chimed in something about the times John Hay and Robert had made out in the rapturous throes of drunken passion.  
“…oh. Um, okay, then. I see.” The fact that all his friends envisioned him partaking in hot, sweaty man sex was a little disconcerting to John Hay.

“Is something wrong?” Robert raised an eyebrow and stroked his little mustache. John Hay was instantly envious.

“No, it’s just sort of weird that you all seemed to know this, and I had no idea.” John Hay looked particularly boyish and innocent at that very moment, with his wavy brown locks combed just so and his big eyes shining in the sunlight like diamonds.

At that moment, he was there—handsome and tanned and pretty much carved from marble except he was a human being. Henry Brooks Adams might as well have ridden in on a white horse and swept John Hay off his feet. He had arrived just in time to hear John Hay say he found him attractive, and this fact pleased Henry greatly. Once past the initial awkwardness, the two young men engaged in pleasant conversation that went on too long to be produced in its full glory here. But let it be known that it was full of polite banter and thinly veiled flirtation. The chemistry between them was seemingly instantaneous.

As they parted ways for the time being, John Hay was left to contemplate the problems ahead. John Hay had a girlfriend, who, though they had been having problems for some time, he cared about deeply and did not wish to hurt. Also, he wanted to bang a dude in 1864.

But oh no, that was not the end of the night’s festivities for John Hay and Henry Adams. Staying at the White House for unspecified reasons, Henry wandered the halls and did some sightseeing. What he did not realize was that he was about to see an incredible sight. A door was left slightly ajar, and inside, he spotted a man getting dressed for bed. It was a naked John Hay! John Hay did not seem to see him standing at the door, so Henry took the time to admire the statuesque form before him.

Henry found the sight pleasing, but then he saw that my God, John Hay possessed an enormous trouser snake. So enormous, in fact, that Henry supposed it had to be a detriment to the poor man’s health somehow. The sight, though quite intimidating, was incredibly arousing. Oh, to be impaled with such a glorious thing… Henry felt his own member grow rigid, and he felt he had to take his leave. How humiliating it would be for Henry to be discovered spying on the nude John Hay, the situation even more humiliating with the great hardened meat wand so obvious in his pants. 

Aware as he was of John Hay’s not-so-secret desire, Henry felt surprisingly timid. His grandfather had been the leader of the free world, as had his great-grandfather been before him, and yet Henry Brooks Adams lacked the bravery to approach John Hay at this moment. How could he barge in so suddenly and proclaim his secret desire? And then, the mere suggestion that they should act upon their forbidden lust was preposterous. How could such things be? Oh, the great difficulties of wanting to bang a dude in 1864.

But then, Henry realized, John Hay had left his bedroom door open just a crack. It was as though the secretary had expected the other man to be wandering about in the night in just this way. Had he, then, wished to be seen? Would it be terribly disappointing to him if Henry returned to bed? Henry sighed and figured the verdict would have to wait for another day. Another hope. Another chance.


	2. A night of lust and not much else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a sad and pathetic turn...

John Hay reluctantly crowled in to bed, sighing drammatically. He had been shure that Henry would have followed him into bed, and the thought of sleeping alone made Hay sad. That & the fact that he was sporting a huge hard on and he had hoped that Henrey would take care of it. Or some thing Honestly, kissing would be pretty nice too. As long as they were togeather . Either way it did not change the fact that John Milton Hay was hard as a fucking rock, and now had to take it upon himself to take care of that fact. It was lucky that his roommate Nicolay was away on an convenient buzines trip. Touching his anaconda sized dick, he stroked himself slowly, imagining that Henry was the one doing it. Imagining all the things he wanted to do to him… what he wanted DONE to him. it was hotter than he could take, and soon he spilled buttermilk all over his hands, panting heavily.

Henry Books Adams continued around the house, admiring the portraits, before sitting down at his desk to write in his diary.

_“Dear diary, I am feeling things… down THERE. oh woe is meeeeee. whatever will i do I am so hot for Jon Hay but we are dudes in 1864 this is ILLEGAL AND WRONG… BUT OH SO RIGHT.””_ henry thought for a moment, then began writing down everything he Fanta-sized about John doing to him, even the really kinky stuf.. if John ever found this diary… or anyone else… Henry dared not even think of it. it was too scary to think… Sighing, Henry stripped totally naked and crawled into his own soft bed, drifing off into a very wet dream about John.


End file.
